Archive of Our Own

Spencer is suddenly, unaccountably nervous. This isn't a surprise to him, exactly. Cole has been sending fairly unmistakable signals his way for a number of weeks and -- despite what people might think -- Spencer can read people just fine. He just doesn't always have faith in his conclusions.

So this, the guy who keeps showing up early at the tutoring center to make small talk, standing in his dorm room, running a fingertip across the spines of the books his mother used to read to him... it's like a burst of radio noise out of empty space, unlooked-for phenomena.

Cole hmms quietly and fingers a worn volume of Proust. "I thought math was your subject?"

"Yes, I-" Spencer cuts himself off; he doesn't need to explain his degrees, or anything else. He just needs to answer the question. "My mother was a professor. Those are hers."

"Was?"

Spencer doesn't need to explain this, either. "She's retired."

Cole nudges the book back into line and tosses Spencer an easy grin. "Teacher's kid. I get it."

Spencer doesn't reply, but Cole's dark eyes fix on him and he drops his hand from the shelf. Moves closer. Shifts his weight in a way that makes his whole body into a question.

This is why they're here.

The first kiss is mostly a press and brush of lips, heads acutely angled like dolls with their faces mashed together in play. Spencer ticks it off as another cue, avoiding noses; Cole hasn't really done this before either.

This is why Spencer locked the door.

The second kiss is much the same; they move apart and then together again, angles easing, and again. Cole's lips warm and soften under his, and again, and Spencer's nerves are thrumming under his skin but he won't stop, he won't. Cole's breath puffs against his face, shallow and fast. He isn't stopping either.

This is-

Cole is against the wall before Spencer even realizes that he's pushed him, that his hands are gripping Cole's upper arms and holding him there, holding him still. Spencer is taller, by maybe an inch; he hadn't even noticed because it hasn't mattered until right now, when he tilts his head down and Cole opens under his mouth.

'Enthusiasm counts for a lot.' It's something Spencer overheard from another grad student in the courtyard one day and it's true, the kiss is clumsy and wet and almost more noise than contact, but if Spencer had any doubts that Cole is right where he wants to be, they're long gone. His hands are at Spencer's waist, fingers looping through his belt and he tugs, pulls Spencer's body against his own. Spencer doesn't stumble, exactly, but his knee thumps into the wall, one slim thigh slipping between Cole's muscled legs and pressing against the swell of his cock.

Whatever sound Spencer makes is lost in Cole's moan, and it mostly makes up for the part where noses apparently aren't a problem, but teeth maybe are. The next solid clack jars all the way to the base of Spencer's skull, and when he opens his eyes and lifts his head Cole tries to follow and that, God, yes.

Cole is looking a question at him; his face is flushed, the shine of spit across the plane of his cheek evidence of Spencer's messy kisses. Spencer releases one arm, reaches up and drags his fingertips through the moisture; Cole turns his face into the touch, eyes still fixed on Spencer. Spencer closes his hand around Cole's jaw and Cole's pupils dilate a fraction more.

Cole likes this, Spencer realizes. He wants this. It's intoxicating.

Spencer holds him still and kisses him again, less frantic, more tongue. Cole matches the rhythm he sets, grinds against Spencer's leg and he's hard, so hard. Spencer's dick aches with the urge to line up and thrust and he could, Cole would let him. This could all happen right here against the wall.

Spencer doesn't want it to.

He breaks the kiss again, letting his hands fall and opening up space between them. Spencer means to say more, say something about the kissing or the wanting or something, but his mouth works soundlessly around the words until it just comes out, "Bed."

Cole doesn't need to be told twice. "Clothes?" He's already edging sideways and then back, moving through the room and tugging restlessly at the hem of his tee-shirt.

Spencer follows in Cole's wake, barely a half-step between the two of them. He nods and Cole has his shirt up and off in a flash, fingers already reaching for the buttons on Spencer's cardigan.

"Who wears sweaters in California?"

"I do." It's a simple statement, an answer to what he belatedly realizes is a rhetorical question, but Cole makes a soft noise and crashes forward, mouthing at Spencer's neck, the thin skin below his jaw. It takes him by surprise, weakens his knees and leaves him lightheaded, torn between wanting his clothes off and wanting to keep Cole's mouth on him and if he keeps that up, they're going to fall.

"I'm going to fall," he says, and Cole leaves off with another half-swallowed noise and shifts back onto his heels.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, it's just... You, uhm."

Spencer has his feet under him again, a bit of equilibrium back and he stops Cole with his lips and tongue. Like this, they can kiss like this and work at Spencer's buttons until the sweater and Oxford shirt puddle on the floor behind him, and it takes an awkward sort of dance to keep kissing, keep moving while they toe off shoes and shove pants down and away but it works, it's done, and then... Spencer has no idea what to do next. They're naked and he's utterly lost.

Cole swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, and Spencer remembers that they're practically the same age. He's so accustomed to being the youngest in any given room that he'd... forgotten. Not everybody is waiting for him to catch up.

Spencer reaches first, skimming fingers across Cole's collarbone and cupping the ball of his shoulder, and Cole's breath sighs out of him. He's broad through the shoulders and chest, tapering down and Spencer recalls Cole telling him he's a swimmer. Spencer is all joints and angles by contrast, but Cole's hands have gravitated to his waist again and are sweeping upwards, warm pressure over his ribs just hard enough not to tickle, sliding around to his back.

They're pulling each other closer, Spencer doesn't know who started it and it doesn't really matter, once they're pressed together -- chest and belly and hips -- the gasp is his. He can feel... everything: skin against flushed skin, his arms around Cole's shoulders and Cole's palms flattened in the middle of his back, the heave of Cole's chest as he pulls in another breath and the faint rasp of stubble where their cheeks meet.

Their cocks are pinned between them, erect and faintly pulsing against their bellies. Cole breathes out as Spencer breathes in, a loose swaying motion as the moment stretches out and out. They could move, they will move soon but this feels so good Spencer almost doesn't want to let go of it to reach for anything more.

It can't last. Cole's breath hitches and he whispers, "Spencer."

"Yes," he answers, dips to drag his mouth along the line of Cole's jaw and slants into a kiss.

Holding becomes clutching and shoving and they are going to fall this time but the bed is right there, it's okay. Mostly okay, Spencer amends; Cole's fingers catch and tug in his hair, there's an unfortunate collision between Spencer's elbow and Cole's ribs, and Spencer manages to bark his shin viciously on the bed frame but he sincerely does not care right now.

They tangle together on the bed like they're trying to crawl into each other's skin. Spencer's cock finds the crease of Cole's hip and he thrusts once, only to lose the rhythm when Cole latches onto his neck again. Spencer had no idea any part of him that's not his dick could be that sensitive, and when Cole sprawls on top of him and they grind against each other, Spencer could swear the room starts to spin.

"I want to-," Cole pants against his ear, and Spencer already knows whatever the question is, his answer will be yes. "Can I touch?"

Spencer bites his lip and nods, struck mute by the surge of his own need. Cole slides off to the side and pulls him with, until they're facing each other across an expanse of sheet that seems miles wide but can't be more than a few inches. Cole loops his heel behind Spencer's knee, shifts until the tangle of their legs bounds the space between them, and their hands collide as they both reach down. Cole huffs out a quiet laugh, and Spencer is starting to laugh in response when Cole's fingers close around him and stroke.

Spencer makes an alarmed... he squeaks, to be perfectly honest, and the spikes of sensation winding up his spine make his reciprocal grasp utterly graceless. Cole doesn't seem to mind, tilting his hips forward with another of those low moans. It's possibly the most awkward angle imaginable but somehow it works; they thrust into each other's hands, foreheads together and too breathless and distracted for kissing. Cole's dick is so much like his own and still subtly different, and Spencer wants, he's going to- he's coming right now, jerking and spilling over Cole's hand without so much as a hint of warning.

When he can see straight again Cole is smiling at him, his own eyes still hazy with lust. Spencer surges up and tips Cole onto his back, thrusts his tongue into Cole's mouth and this is a proper angle. Cole bucks against him once, twice, and yells into the kiss when he comes. Spencer is still leaning over him, his thumb stroking Cole's softening cock when Cole winces and grabs his wrist.

"Sorry, I didn't-"

Cole levers himself up on one elbow and grins. "S'okay." He's looking at Spencer from under his lashes and Spencer turns away, searching for something to wipe off with. They've thoroughly wrecked his bed, which is hardly surprising, and he yanks until the last corner of sheet comes untucked and flops down next to Cole, mutely offering. Spencer's breathing is almost back to normal, the sheen of sweat cooling enough to chill him before Cole speaks again.

"Listen, uhm. I have Econ in half an hour?"

Spencer nods, not sure why Cole would frame it into a question.

"But I could come back." Cole pauses, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Sometime."

Spencer nods again, more slowly. "Yeah. You could... do that."

Cole sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He shifts to face Spencer, hesitates a moment before leaning in for a quick kiss.

It feels decadent, to lay there naked watching Cole dress, but Spencer is disinclined to move. Cole smiles at him again as he lets himself out, and Spencer thinks he'll see him again. He hopes so. He'd like that.